


The masks we wear

by LadyAhiru



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, First Kiss, First Time, Geralts canonly huge cock, Half-Elf!Jaskier (kinda), I wrote this in 30 minutes, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Scent Kink, Slight Choking, Smut, Tagging is as hard as Geralts dick, Tender Sex, bottom jaskier, feelings are hard, possesive sex, top geralt, unbetad we die like my dignity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAhiru/pseuds/LadyAhiru
Summary: Geralt is invited to a Masquerade where he meets an intriguing stranger.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 354





	The masks we wear

**Author's Note:**

> I saw another picture of Joey in Wolf Hall wearing a mask and I couldn't help myself.

Once upon a time, he would have enjoyed himself in marvellous castles full of luxurious furniture and lush food, full of art and grand libraries. He would have enjoyed being dressed up like a flaunting peacock, all golds and blue, his shoulder-length hair pushed back behind his hears and the dark black masquerade mask heavy on his face. He would have loved getting himself ready, bathing, and perfuming, adorning his cornflower blue with dark kohl so that the lines of the masks melted against his skin.

Once upon a time, he would have loved this golden cage but now it was just that, a cage. One of his own choosing but a cage nonetheless. It had been four years since the mountain, and wasn’t that just a fun thing that he did now, measure time with “before mountain” and “after mountain”, and he had spent the last three years at the Court de Stael, fed and dressed and utterly and completely unhappy. Actually that wasn’t precisely true, because unhappiness would be an advantage over the numbness and hollowness inside him.

The last time he had truly felt anything was on that dreaded day but it seemed that the Witcher had broken his heart along with his spirit. Now he stood in the vast banquet hall, thankfully that “his” countess hadn’t asked him to play tonight, had hired another, lesser, bard for the event and stared at the buffet in front of him. He knew logically that he should eat something but he rarely had any appetite these days and so he just stood there and stared.

On the other end of the hall, a certain Witcher had just entered five minutes ago and was already counting down the time before he could leave again. He hated everything about this already but after disposing of a Manticore in a nearby town he had gotten one of those invitations from a Count that you could not easily say no to. It was easier to suck it up for an evening and leave early tomorrow than be unwelcomed in the area.

He let his gaze wander over the dancing and chatting people until his eyes lingered on the bard. The heavy feeling of Dredd and guilt that he had lived with the last four years settled into his stomach once more. The bard wasn’t bad per se but he was nothing compared to the one he had once travelled with. He had looked for Jaskier, all these years but if he was still alive he hid well. No word, no new songs, no whispers about his whereabouts. Geralt had even asked Yennefer for help to find Jaskier but no trace had come up. He knew deep down that ~~his~~ the bard was still alive but it was only a small comfort.

His eyes wandered once more and he finally found his way over to the buffet table. If he had to endure this glittery spectacle he could at least do it with a belly full of wine and meat. There was only one other person at the tables yet and he had to blink once he took the man in. Tall and slender, yet definitely muscular he stood with an empty look in his dark blue eyes. His hair just reached his shoulders and he seemed to be as bored as Geralt.

Something about the man drew him in, something pulled at him to walk over to get a closer look. The man was dressed in a dark blue doublet with a golden shirt underneath that made his eyes sparkle dark and alluring. Geralts throat suddenly felt dry, something about those dark eyes made him want to reach out and let his hands run through the man’s hair. He cleared his throat when the other man suddenly turned and looked at him. He saw recognition in the blue eyes, which made sense. Even with the dark mask, he could not hide his white hair and golden eyes and even though Jaskiers songs had stopped he was still the White Wolf of Rivia.

The man looked him up and down and opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. Jaskier was, for the first time in his long life, at a loss of words. Geralt looked at him in a weird way and it suddenly downed on him that with his long hair and slight stubble the Witcher might not have realized who he was yet. He blinked and then put on his best fake charming smile. “Well, well, well what have we here?” he circled the Witcher while putting a hand on Geralts shoulder, slightly putting pressure to the Witchers arm.

Geralt watched in confusion as this beautiful creature of a man not only touched and looked at him, no, there was definitely something flirty in his tone. He coughed and inhaled the others heavy perfumed scent. He smelled a bit too flowery but there was something warm underlining in the man’s smell that drew him even more in, even more, important there was no hint of fear in his scent and Geralt stared in wonder. “Cat got your tongue, Witcher?” The man winked at him and came to halt right before him. Geralt coughed to find his voice again. “What’s your name?” The man grinned like a hungry shark and leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of his ear. “Julian my dear, it is Julian.”

Something stirred in Geralts memory, something he had heard a long time ago but it was forgotten again when the man continued. “I have a room upstairs, what do you say we get out of here?” Later Geralt would blame it on the alcohol, that he hadn’t even had yet, and the familiarity of the man but without blinking he nodded and let the man reach for his arm, dragging him upstairs.

He didn’t even have time to admire the room he was pushed into before he was pushed down a soft bed and the man straddled his hips. He grinned and leaned down to bit at his ear. “I am going to devour you, Witcher.” He whispered before he started to nibble at Geralts jawline. Geralt felt light-headed and like he was floating. Something about that man, his voice, his smell made him feel right at home and he moved them around so he could press him into the mattress, using his full weight to grind down, excited when Julian moaned right into his ear.

He reached for the man’s mask but his hand was softly swatted away. “Oh no, leave them on darling!” Shrugging Geralt leaned down and pulled the man’s lip into his mouth, carefully nibbling and running his tongue over the flush flesh. “Ahhhh.” Hungry hands found the way to his Doublet and buttons were opened with precise fingers, his shirt pushed over his head before he was once more pulled into a wet kiss. He found purchase between Julian’s legs and ground his groin into the other mans, and was promptly rewarded by a loud moan as he threw his head back in pleasure.

Geralts hands made their way to Julian’s doublet and shirt, slowly working it open and helping him out of it so that they were both shirtless. The younger man kept grinding and rubbing into him and growling he made quick work of their pants and underclothes too. The Witcher then took a moment to take in the sight underneath him, the pale and soft skin, covered in smooth brown hair, the long firm legs that wrapped around his own waist, the lush wet lips and the beautiful eyes hidden behind the dark mask. “You are beautiful Julian,” he whispered and wrinkled his head in confusion when the other man looked sad for a second before pushing his lips against Geralts hot mouth once again.

“There is oil in the nightstand, Witcher.” came the grinning reply and Geralt grunted before reaching for the small side table. He turned the man around, onto his stomach, and propped him up on his knees so that he had to arch his back. A low whine escaped Julian’s mouth and he pushed back against Geralts hard cock, leaking with precum. Geralt coated his shaking fingers with the oil and halted for a moment. Chamomile. A memory of a bath long gone stirred inside him but he did what he always did. He pushed the feelings of love and longing back down, so he could move on.

He focused back on the man underneath him and started to knead into his butt cheeks. Panting and grinding the man turned his head and smiled, urging Geralt on who happily complied by circling Julian’s rim with a slick finger. “Today please!!! I am not getting any younger here Geralt!” Annoyed by taking his time the young man pushed himself on Geralts finger who blinked as he heard his own name from the young man’s lips. Impatient he pushed another digit into the tight heat and bit into Julian’s shoulder. “Yes! Yes! Bite me Geralt! Bite me! Mark me!” the man shouted hoarsely and suddenly Geralt knew who he had decided to take to bed.

He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Now it made sense. Why he had been drawn to the man, the eyes, the smell, everything. “Don’t stop! Please,” Jaskiers voice sounded pleading and Geralt pushed another finger into him before bringing his other hand to Jaskiers neck, curling his fingers around him and pushing his face into the mattress. “Like this? You want it like this? Want me to mark you? Claim you? Make you mine?” “Fghnnn!” The mask had slipped half of Jaskiers face when Geralt had pushed him down, he could hardly breathe against Geralts strong grip and he had never felt better in his life.

“Please Geralt, please. Neeeed. Please.” The grip around his throat got slightly firmer and a deep voice whispers into his ear, while the fingers withdrew, only to be replaced with a large cock. “If you want to be mine you have to say it.” The Witcher whispered, before starting to slowly withdraw out of him only to push back with force. “Say it Jaskier!” Jaskiers eyes widened and he struggled against Geralts iron grip. “SAY IT!” he shouted and Jaskier felt tears fall from his eyes. Geralt was pushing into him relentlessly, brushing over his sweet spot over and over while holding him down into place.

His voice sounded rough and gravely when he finally found it again. “Wanna be yours Geralt. Pleasepleaseplease! Need to be yours. Please!” “Mine!” Geralt grunted and pulled out of Jaskier who whined in protest. He pushed the bard around again, onto his back and pushed his knees up to his chest before reclaiming him in one swift motion. The mask had slipped completely from Jaskiers face, his hair dishevelled and Geralt pulled his own mask from his head before leaning down so he could softly brush his lips against Jaskiers. “Mine...” he lowly mumbled against his lips. He thrusted slowly back inside Jaskier, finding as slow and tender rhythm while looking deep into the bards' eyes who was whining with pleasure.

“Geralt. Oh god, Geralt.” Shaking Jaskier wove his fingers into Geralts white strands biting down at the Witchers neck, breathing in his heavy scent. “Missed you so much. Gods! Geralt.” Tears were still running down his face and Geralt kissed them away, bringing his face as close as possible to his bards while still fucking into him in agonizing tenderness. “Missed you too Jaskier…” He was unsure how to put in words what he felt. That he missed him so much that breathing was hard. That he needed him in his life, on the path with him, that he loved him more than the sun loved the stars. He could just look at the bard and kiss him again, soft and full of love.

“More, please…” and Geralt who would do anything to make Jaskier happy again sped up and roughly fucked into him hard and merciless until Jaskier reached between them and with only two strokes of his own cock came all over their chests. Grunting Geralt pulled out and spilled his hot seed over Jaskiers body, their fluids and scent mixing in a for Geralt heavenly smell. He let himself fall down next to Jaskier and stared at the ceiling scared to say anything.

“Geralt….” “Hmm?” Jaskier rolled himself half onto Geralt and twirled a white hair strand between his sweaty fingers. He opened his mouth but his eyes filled with worry and he sighed before making an attempt to distance himself. Geralts hand came fast around his waist and he held him close. “Mine…Jaskier. Mine.” Geralt begged for once and rested his forehead against Jaskiers. He surprised both of them when he continued. “I am sorry about before. Please. Come back. I need you.” And for the first time in four years, a real true smile adorned Jaskiers face and he nuzzled his face into the crook of Geralts neck.

“Okay, but just so you know…” and he started to work an impressive love bite into the side of Geralts neck. “I haven’t forgiven you yet, I need plenty more convincing. At least once a day Geralt.” “That….that can be arranged.” Relieved the Witcher closed his eyes and kissed Jaskiers forehead, slowly drifting off to sleep. For once he was at utter peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter; @ladyahiru  
> Toss a Comment to your Writer 
> 
> Jules


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